


A Beast, Purring

by ithrowboxis



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Scenes, Dark Will Graham, Flirting, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Seduction, Will Graham Knows, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithrowboxis/pseuds/ithrowboxis
Summary: Will wants to see Hannibal suffer, maybe even unpick the stitching of his person-suit. He might also like to see him out of his actual suit.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	1. Gauntlet

It was late, their therapy session turning into dinner and then an opened bottle of red. They were now in Hannibal's lounge, cradling near-empty glasses as the fireplace danced flames of light on them. And it was here that they stood with a mild tension, elastic pulled just enough to strain, each aware that they were not the only animal in the room. But it came with a looseness too, the easiness of an old friend's company, softness rounded on the pumice stone of a glass of a good meal well enjoyed.

"If you must insist on duplicity," Hannibal started, "I would appreciate it if you at least offered me the courtesy of knowing whether to expect Jack's knock at my door." It wasn't so much of an accusation, more of a simple statement.

"Where's the fun in that?" Will retorted, "or the fairness? I don't think you ever offered me the same courtesy when you were spinning your victim's remains around my fishing lures."

"You said that you did not wish to kill me, Will, yet I feel you may place a noose around my neck still," Hannibal tested, not answering the questions, "and tighten it too."

"It's not in my interest to see your fate so tightly sealed."

Hannibal tilted his head a degree, questions of Will's true interests turning over in his mind.  
"Why not? You sent a man to kill me from your cell, I should think without Jack and Alana's fortunate intervention, you would have me dead to rights. Why aim your gun at me if you no longer want to claim my life?"

"Because I want to see you dishevelled," a pause, contemplating. Wording and intonation would be scrutinised for falsity, necessitating accuracy of statement as much as is allowed within the confines of a vague taunt. Hannibal felt his question die on his tongue as he saw Will continue. "By any means necessary."

Hannibal's gaze darkened, still held in level eye contact despite the blunt suggestion. An assessing head tilt, is this bait? After a pregnant pause, he settled for an acquiesce.  
"Any means?"

Will's mouth curled into a smile almost cruel, an impressive contrast against those doe eyes now widened in an innocence most would mistake for genuine.  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He returned, not so much of a question as a turn taken in the developing game. A cheeky pass, almost. No cards played from his hand.

Hannibal's curiosity bit at his control, demanding attention. It goes unfed but not ignored, the animal's teeth puncturing in a vice-like grip. His control is too tough to chew through. Another turn, another pass. Will stepped forward then, close enough to feel the tension radiating from him. To catalogue the retreat of chest inwards as a breath is drawn and held in silence. That tension and silence itself as much of an answer as any.

"Dishevelled. By any means necessary."

An unneeded repetition by means of information, supplied only to let Hannibal know how sure Will was of his wording. This shy, trembling facade gone in place of a confident creature, red wine staining the lips his teeth bit into at each opportunity. Another pause then, and just as Hannibal parted his lips to reply, he pursed them almost immediately - Will revelled in catching the man off guard by continuing his turn.

"Mental exhaustion, emotional bereavement, physical exertion. I want to see you lose your cool, if you'll forgive the less-than-pompous parlance." Will practically winked, knowing Hannibal would be insulted both by the phrasing and the jab at his supposed pomposity.

Hannibal didn't rise to commenting on the vague suggestions at ways he could 'lose his cool', as Will inadequately phrased it. He was sure that was the trap, and instead opted for a sorer spot to hit at, an opening in this new armour Will was donning.

"You want something from me? Forgive me if I seem surprised at this sudden abandonment of the pretence you have constructed. Before now you have insisted that you simply do not think of me. That you are more comfortable the less familiar we are. Yet you wish to see me vulnerable, and that should take a certain level of consideration and familiarity, don't you think?"

Irked by his own misstep and keen not to play further into Hannibal's hand by retaliating, Will thought for a second, covering the pause by eyeing Hannibal's body slowly. He was right of course, he did think of him, wanted something from him as he'd said, and he had just revealed that plainly. There could be no denial of that fact, he would be left spluttering and defensive. He placed his empty wine glass on the side table and reached a hand out to run down the edge of the lapel of Hannibal's suit. Will noted the softness of the material against the stiffness with which Hannibal held himself, and chose to go on the offence instead.

"You're right, Dr Lecter, I do think of you," he parted his lips with his tongue, let it linger there, the picture of suggestion. "And what pretty pictures I imagine." He ran his other hand down Hannibal's other lapel, gripping both gently. Instead of pulling him forwards by his suit, he leaned in instead, crowding the man despite not having the height on him. He heard the tight inhale as his lips ghosted the shell of Hannibal's ear. "I'll tell you all about them, if you ask nicely," he smirked, let his eyes narrow for just a tick to let the smile meet them.

Ask nicely meant beg, and they both knew that. Yet, despite Will being so close that Hannibal could feel the heat on his cheeks, he didn't relent. He didn't reach to Will's hands at his suit, didn't pull him closer or push him away. Instead, he hummed low in his throat, a noise perhaps a tad too affected to be merely from consideration or amusement, and simply spoke his evaluation.  
"You wish to see me lose my control. It would certainly make me more human in your eyes to see me less composed. Succumb... Submit," the word could not be more loaded, the heat from the fireplace burning as heat rose to Will's cheeks, "to something. To have my power stripped from me, for once. By you, Will."

"Psychiatry outside of session, Doctor?" he bit with no malice, "If I have come to crave the taste of your power, it is because you have sharpened my teeth". Will's speaking betrayed his desire at the thought, his speech coming out slightly more laboured than normal.

"Do not mistake your own actions as my intentions. You are a beast of your own making, Will, I merely observed your becoming."

"Ah, so you are observing rather than participating?"

"I am content with that assessment."

Drawing back two steps, creating too much distance than either man wanted, Will huffed a short laugh, a disbelieving utterance. Hannibal capitalised on the lack of retort, pushing forward with only words, not stepping forward into Will's space. Luring, not hunting.  
"You disagree? I am a participant in that I have, as you put it, 'wound you up'. I am an observer in that I have 'watched how you go'. Where does that leave us, Will? Can you blame me for how you have acted? How you are choosing to act right now?"

Will hummed, tired of questions without answers from both sides. Tired of verbal sparring for the night. Tired of the coil he held in his stomach and the want that directed his body and movement towards Hannibal.  
"Thank you for dinner, Dr Lecter, I should really be going." He turned on his heel and started to walk towards the hallway with a confidence he didn't quite feel, hoping Hannibal read his departure as his next play in their game rather than as retreating.

He wanted to believe his suddenness tonight caught Hannibal off guard despite the near inscrutable expression he had received. Not dishevelment, nowhere close, but perhaps an activation of that part of Hannibal that wanted to see what Will would do next. That part that might even lobby for his attention should it be rescinded.

Will drove a street away before letting out a shaky breath, not wanting Hannibal to spy him in the driveway. He revelled in the thoughts of what might come next, just as interested to see Hannibal's ongoing reactions just as much as Hannibal was interested in his actions. A dark curiosity that bubbled and rose. Calmed, he continued his journey home.

#

Their next therapy session hit a lull despite the buzz that permeated every interaction they had shared since Will had played his opening hand. Will used his eyes more than his mouth for most of the hour, his gaze travelled up the long line of Hannibal's leg, so gracefully crossed at the knee. They made eye contact as Hannibal began to speak, his tone hitting on matter-of-fact and weighted consideration.  
"You have thrown down the gauntlet, Will. You have made your goal concerning me clear, because you want the satisfaction in besting me even when I knew of your intentions."

"You will tighten an iron grip on your control because you know that it is my target. And then you will lose it to me."

"Because I will exert myself faster with the increased effort."

There were less questions and more conviction from them both, the gambit no longer a secret. Will looked to the ceiling of Hannibal's office, his mind rolling like waves over the words that didn't pinpoint his thinking. He exhaled, and felt a small measure of power in the silence that Hannibal allowed him.

"Hubris," Will spoke, the low rumbling of the word like a beast, purring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: edited for format, spelling


	2. Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crime scene, and some insulations.

Later in the week, Will dreamt about Hannibal under him. Bloody as Will's fist met his face again and again. Split lip, reddened teeth, pliant on the floor - it should've been enough. But as Will looked, he saw a bloodied grin on the man, a sparkle in his eyes as he felt Will's becoming first-hand. His next hit landed soft and he paused, taking laboured breath after laboured breath. The throbbing in his fist was the final straw, a grimace as he suddenly felt the sharpness of cuts at his knuckles stinging, and the adrenaline faded. Physical exertion replaced any sensation he had, and as he looked at a beaten Hannibal still prone and smiling up at him, he knew who had the power - who had lost their control in this scenario. His last thought was how intimate it had felt.

Will was suddenly pulled from his dream by the harsh tones of his phone, the haze and grog of sleep still slurring his movement as he blindly reached for his phone and brought it sloppily to his ear.

"Will, it's Jack." Of course it was.

"What is it?" Will replied, knowing even as he said it that he could only partially blame his brusk response on being suddenly woken up.

"I need you to get here ASAP, Will. We think it's the ripper."

He'd heard it before, it was practically a script. New body, Chesapeake Ripper, get here now. And like clockwork, Will would turn up and take one look at the scene of the crime and sigh, trying to feel guilty at the annoyance he felt for being dragged out to a crime scene that didn't have Hannibal's metaphorical fingerprints all over it. Except this time, Will felt something pull at his chest, an unease more than anything, because it was entirely possible that this is how Hannibal decided to respond. Will dragged a hand down his face before pushing himself up and out of bed, moving to get ready before thoughts and his duvet pulled him away from his obligations.

Jack said ASAP, but Jack said that often. He also hadn't provided details of transport or anyone who might be accompanying him to the scene. He had of course resumed therapy with one Hannibal Lecter, but it could not be forgotten or ignored that he had made an attempt against his life. He couldn't know for sure whether Hannibal would be there when he turned up.

#

Will pulls up to the location, a warehouse across a bar. Apparently a regular had gone missing shortly after his leave the night before. The location is already busy with police, agents, and crime scene photographers. Will sees Hannibal amongst them, stood by Jack. Of course Hannibal was there. Far be it for him to miss seeing Will's real-time reaction to an artful murder he had committed. Because he had, and he had done it for Will's engagement.

Staring at the body, a man not unlike himself in physical attributes, he knew before intending to analyse it that this was Hanninal's work. The man was suspended close to the ground but still above it, reaching up. Jack cleared the room so that Will could concentrate on the profile.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and let the pendulum swing. Hearing his own voice now as he worked through the scene. "I approach the man from behind, hunting prey. He does not know me personally and never will but he is a pretender, a conman. He is beautiful, and it has served his charisma well. I snap his neck cleanly, humanly even, to retain his form. He is dead before he knows it."

Time moves forward then, dragging Will to points of relevance in the scene. He sees the man prone on the ground, naked now bar underwear, sees the careful incision made in the stomach where Hannibal had taken his trophy, his dinner. Will feels himself unwrapping wire from his fist.

"I suspend you from this structure deliberately, posing you like a still from a film. This is not for you, it does not speak to your character. This is for the one I know will see it and understand. You will be created in his image. I wrap wires around your limbs, working quickly but efficiently against the clock. I am keenly aware of rigor mortis, as I am a doctor.

"You will reach up to the very sky you fell from, arm extended. You are a mere meter from your demise and yet you cling to the air rather than attempt to shield yourself. When you are discovered, the sun will cast itself across your palm, yet you cannot grab it. I slash two marks into your back, one in each shoulder blade. The blood drips from you to the ground. Wings gone, you are Icarus, fallen."

Unlike most times when he was interrupted by Jack or another, Will came back to the present in his own time. He couldn't be sure if that was coincidence, or whether he had understood the scene in too quick of a time for anyone to pull him from his visualisation. He walked out towards Jack and Hannibal, who awaited his verdict.

"He flew too close to the sun, Jack." Will announced, eyes flicking to Hannibal, whose eyes were fixed to him intently. "The killer deemed him too similar to their- to someone they knew. In some way."

It was a deliberate obfuscation of the scene, and Will knew that. He knew Hannibal knew too, rewarded simply with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. The resemblance of the victim was uncanny, wild dark curls about his face.

"He's posed like Icarus, the blood would have looked like wings when it first dripped from the cuts in his back." Will continued.

"The ripper, Will. Is it him?" Jack cut straight to the heart of the matter, hell-bent on reaching the destination the train travelled towards on his one-track mind.

Will regarded Hannibal openly, then, saw an assessing head tilt from the other man as he waited for Will's answer too. He looked to the man's eyes, narrowed slightly in anticipation, and held the contact as he spoke.

"It's him, Jack. But I don't know more than that."

_ This is your kill, I won't deny that. Not for the sake of our game. Will tried to convey with his eyes, You won't get away from that on my account, just because this was for me. _

*

If Will spent an extra minute more tousling his hair or fixing his collar than usual before he left for his standing appointment, he didn't feel guilty about it. Hannibal had left a body for him to look at, which was tantamount to flirting, and Will wouldn't lose the opportunity of capitalising on that - even if it had morbid implications. He steeled himself mentally before rapping his knuckles on the door, saw flashes of cuts and blood on them as an afterimage of his dream came to mind. With a quick blink and shake of his head, he was back to his present reality, just in time for the door to open.

Hannibal greets him with a smile, small and real, and ushers him to the office. An evening session, as they had always had, now enjoyed over a glass of red wine. This time, it wasn't long before Hannibal raised the topic of their tension.

"You spoke of hubris last we spoke, Will. Hubris being a pride that blinds, one that results in a shameful fall. Were you referring to how my pride will necessitate my undoing?"

"Perhaps."

"Could it not be your hubris that ends this game, Will?"

Will bristled at the insinuation. "I don't think of myself as prideful, Dr Lecter."

"Hubris has often referred to man's transgressions against the gods, the belief that they can defy them by sinning, or besting them at their own game."

Will scoffed, "Hell of a god complex you have going on there. At least you're self aware."

"Is that not how you have depicted yourself to me? Cast yourself the role of a mortal who seeks to best me?"

"This room isn't big enough for the ego of two gods."

"Maybe just one then." Hannibal quipped, "The Greeks spoke of hubris in many ways, one being the spirit of Hybris. If you prefer Roman mythology, then we could discuss their vision of hubris embodied, Petulantia."

"Someone's been doing their reading. Almost like I have your attention outside of class."

"They were described as insolent, violent, and outrageous." Hannibal continued, ignoring the remark itself but answering Will's general attitude with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that your way of insulting me, Dr Lecter?"

"It is not solely an insult to be called outrageous."

"A compliment, then?"

There was a small uptick of Hannibal's mouth, a not-quite smile that would be easily missed. Will wasn't entirely sure whether it was a deliberate act, too wary to believe that Hannibal would show any expression - no matter how minor - unless he chose to do so. He noted the lack of verbal response, and although it was hardly an anomaly for Hannibal to let Will stew in his own question, he dialled in on what had been said.

"You said they were also insolent and violent, how am I meant to receive that comparison?"

"I'd imagine that if I am the person you claim me to be, calling you violent could not be anything other than an appreciation for your capacity. Especially for one as empathetic as you."

"Insolent, then? Am I supposed to believe that is also a positive characteristic?"

Hannibal's mouth tightened at the corners in a hidden smile. He raised his head, breaking eye contact as if formulating an adequate response required his undivided attention. "You pick apart my words like a crime scene, Will. On insolence, well. I have a general and strong distaste for rude behaviour. That, and the people that exhibit this rudeness."

"Then you must have a palette attuned to distaste." Will relished in the conflicted look in Hannibal's eyes. He enjoyed the humour but not the insinuation, and Will could feel the pride rolling off of him in waves tinged by a prickly, spiky energy. The challenging look said that these waters will drown you before you find your legs for them.

"Hubris is not about the enactment of punishment that follows a fall, Will. It is about the shaming of misplaced arrogance. The open-faced display of humiliation at proving oneself to be lacking in a way they boasted."

"You want to humiliate me for my insolence?" Will felt a tinge of heat on his cheeks then, like sunburn across the bridge of his nose. He felt his inner animal perk its head, ears twitching at the choice in language.

"Only so far as you wish to shame me for my misplaced arrogance." Hannibal replied easily, with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is gonna be slower than I thought, oops. Sorry!
> 
> This is my first fic and I usually just write as it comes to me. Hope you enjoy, and if you did please leave kudos or a comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and I usually just write as it comes to me. Hope you enjoy, and if you did please leave kudos or a comment <3  
> A/N: edited for format, spelling


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